


Heart of Ore

by dawnstruck



Series: Role Reversal [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Gen, M/M, Role Reversal, RoyEd overtones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4991773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstruck/pseuds/dawnstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the core of him sits a heart of ore, not pure, not precious, but destined to become something great.</p><p>Inspired by a tumblr post: "AU where everything is the same but Ed doesn't have a temper and Alphonse does."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of Ore

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post on tumblr: http://dawnstruck.tumblr.com/post/131012894065/hipsterhatake-au-where-everything-is-the-same
> 
> I totally love the idea when I read it, but then it kind of got away from me, so this is rather inspired by instead of based on. Also, though there is no explicit shipping there are some RoyEd overtones because this is me and I can't help it.
> 
> On a sidenote, this is my fiftieth fic on AO3 so yay for me, this past year has been really productive for me, the weeaboo life has been treating me well.

Edward Elric is small.

That is the first impression Roy Mustang gets of the boy. He is pale, fragile, subdued.

The fact that he is even alive after all that he has endured is a miracle in itself.

He sits hunched in on himself, half of him missing. Maybe more than half if his silence, his lowered gaze are anything to go by.

The boy would probably be better off dead, considering he seems traumatized beyond repair.

But his brother stands behind him, vast and vicious and full of rage, and Roy thinks that maybe they have a chance still.

 

One year later and the boy is steel now. Or at least parts of him are.

The rest of him is still flesh that probably bruises too easily and that looks too thinly spread on his breakable bones.

But he adapted to automail within only a year and he just passed the state alchemist exam. Maybe there is something tenacious about him after all, something resilient and ruthless.

Maybe Führer Bradley sees it, too. Or maybe the old man is just being sarcastic.

“Congratulation on joining the ranks,” Roy tells him from behind his desk, “Your title will be Fullmetal from now on.”

Edward gives a small nod and then excuses himself, making his way toward the door.

“One question, Fullmetal,” Roy stops him and the boy halts with his white-gloved hand on the brass handle, glancing back over his narrow shoulder.

“What changed your mind?” the Colonel wants to know.

For a long moment, there is silence.

Then.

“I owe it to Al.”

Roy honestly doesn't know whether he had expected anything else.

 

“You rather skimmed over the details on how the situation in Northwell escalated,” Roy notes, glancing up from the report to cock an eyebrow at Edward, “Care to enlighten me?”

Fullmetal clenches his folded hands, looks down at them, bites his lower lip, “Some of the townspeople were a little... abrasive.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Edward squirms a little, takes a breath, “Al picked a fight with them.”

Of course. How could it be any different.

“You'll have to find a way to get that brother of yours under control,” Roy points out, “Otherwise I can't allow him to accompany you on your missions any more.”

That finally gets a reaction from Ed.

“He helps, too,” he insists, his gaze frenzied, pleading, “I- I'll tell him to behave, but- He's always been like this and now he has the size and strength to actually really fight people and- I'll talk to him, I promise.”

“See that you do,” Roy nods.

The younger Elric brother really is a piece of work, a gruesome cross between a spitfire spirit and a battle-born appearance. It's no wonder, really, that people often take him to be the Fullmetal Alchemist instead of this soft-spoken, timid child.

But Edward is a state alchemist and he will have to do his job properly, with or without his brother's questionable aid.

 

It seems like children and animals are naturally drawn to Edward. They flock around him like woodland creatures around a maiden in a fairy tale, and he gives them soft smiles and careful pats on the head.

Women like him, too, and more than once Roy has felt a ridiculous twinge of envy when he saw how the boy got apprehended by the secretaries at the base who all made cooing noises at him and lamented that such a sweet darling should have no place in the army.

He is skittish around men, though, watching them somewhat distrustfully, never quite at ease in their presence.

“He's still upset that our old man just fucked off,” Alphonse huffs, idly kicking a metal heel against the wall, “I barely remember him so I don't really give a damn, but he made my brother cry and for that alone the bastard can rot in hell.”

Abandoned by his father and losing his mother so shortly after. Roy doesn't know with certainty which of the brothers first had the idea of attempting human transmutation, but he wouldn't be surprised at all if it had been Edward.

 

There is an earthen quality to Ed. He is rich and nurturing, but very malleable depending on the outside forces. He becomes dry and brittle in the sun, muddy with rain, frozen stiff after weeks of cold.

But at the core of him, Roy thinks, at the core of him sits a heart of ore, not pure, not precious, but destined to become something great.

 

The few times Roy ever witnesses Ed raise his voice is when the brothers are squabbling over something minor. It betrays the closeness between them, the intimacy that maybe only siblings may have.

In other people's presence, Edward is unfailingly polite, please and thank you and proper salutes.

Sometimes Roy wonders what it would take to make the boy lose his temper, to hear him shout and scream, fight tooth and nail.

Say 'fuck you', Roy thinks when he hands Edward the instructions for another unreasonable mission, Say 'go to hell, you stupid bastard'.

“Yes, sir,” Edward says and something in Roy grits its teeth like an animal.

 

When he returns, Fullmetal is a sorry sight, his braid half-unraveled and his cheek in hues of lavender with a lingering bruise.

“Your brother not here to say hello?” Roy asks, already knowing the answer.

“No, he... he already went ahead to the barracks,” Ed says haltingly.

No surprise there. Alphonse was probably pissed at the Colonel for sending them out on another wild goose chase.

“Found anything useful for your private endeavor?” Roy prods, just to be obtuse and watch Fullmetal squirm a bit.

“Ah,” he says, glancing away, “N-no, I'm afraid not, sir.”

He should be furious that these stupid errands Roy has him run keep him from making any real progress in their search for the philosopher's stone. But Edward never voices any complaints, never dares to talk back.

Roy closes his eyes for a brief moment, comes to a decision. Then he stands up from his chair and rounds the table.

“Step closer, Fullmetal,” Roy orders and Edward obeys without question, though there is some apprehension in the pinch of his shoulders.

“Closer,” Roy demands.

Another step and they would be standing face to face now if Edward weren't so dreadfully short still.

Fifteen years old now and still looking like a child instead of a soldier. If it weren't for his uniform, his silver watch people would never take him seriously. Most of them still don't and many have paid dearly for it.

Fullmetal may not do it gladly but he does fulfill his duties.

“Do you hate me, Fullmetal?” Roy asks, his voice cool and controlled, but he watches curiously as Edward's startled gaze flickers up and then straight ahead again, fixing on Roy's medals.

“No, sir,” he replies tightly, a hint of a quaver in his tone, “If I have given you the impression-”

“Shut up,” Roy says, hates how the boy's mouth immediately snaps shuts.

“You must hate me,” he muses, “For dragging you into the military, for making you what you don't want to be.”

“... You have offered me an opportunity,” Ed dares to say when it becomes obvious that the Colonel is expecting an answer, “And for that I am... grateful.”

“I have taken the last shred of your innocence,” Roy reminds him. After all, the boy has had to kill in his name.

The look in Ed's eyes is dull, shrouded by dark memories.

“There wasn't much left of it anyway,” he mutters and then adds a belated, “Sir.”

Roy eyes him contemplatively, this tiny enigma that he's been blunting his claws on, biting his teeth bloody for the past five years, trying to unravel it, tear it apart, see what was hidden within.

A heart of ore, as he suspected.

Ore needed heat to be purified, to be freed of the tarnishing gangue. It needed fire. It needed to burn.

Without warning, Roy reaches out a hand, grabs Edward by the base of his braid and violently slams him face-first onto the surface of the desk.

Edward lets out a strangled yelp, brings up his arms to protect his nose from being broken on impact. A few stray papers flutter onto the floor.

“C-Colonel,” Fullmetal stammers out, instinctively pushing back against the hold, “What-”

Good, Roy thinks, pushes down harder. Fight me. Question me. Don't give up so easily.

“What do I have to do to make you hate me?” he wonders aloud, digging his fingernails into the tender skin of Ed's neck and scalp, “How far would I need to go?”

“Sir,” Ed's shoulders are shaking, “I don't understand why you're doing this, why-”

“I killed your friend's parents, did I ever tell you that?” Roy cuts him off, “The Rockbells. Good people. Too good, really. You don't survive a war with a bleeding heart, you know.”

Fullmetal has gone rigid in his hold, no longer trembling.

Yes, Roy thinks, anticipation making him short of breath.

“I've killed so many people, with just the snap of my fingers,” he continues, leaning in closer so he is almost whispering into Edward's ear, “But for them I used a common handgun. Had to look into their eyes, listen to their pleas. They were begging, telling me about their little girl-”

“You're lying,” Ed bites out, “I don't believe you, why are you doing this all of a sudden, why-?”

“Because you are more than just a blunt tool, Fullmetal,” Roy tells him, “You are a blade of steel, just like that arm of yours. You just need to find you edge.”

“Stop it,” Edward shakes his head, “Stop it or I'll scream.”

“Will you?” Roy asks, suddenly enticed by the idea of wrangling actual screams from the boy, of having his ears ring with the delightful sound of it. He tightens his grip.

“Then scream,” he urges, shaking Edward a little by the nape of his neck, like one would with a disobedient dog, “Scream for me.”

Edward opens his mouth. But then he clamps it shut again, gritting his teeth, eyes clenched.

Oh, Roy thinks, realization dawning to him.

Defiance can be found in silence, too, he knows. What better way to talk back then to say nothing at all, especially when asked to speak up.

They are getting somewhere, they are close. The boy only needs a little push now. He must break before he can be re-build. Roy will shatter him.

“As you wish,” he says, straightening up. His free hand comes down to viciously slam down on Edward's buttocks. The thick fabric of the uniform, however, absorbs most of the force and the gasp Ed lets out is more out of surprise.

Impulsively, Roy changes his technique. Instead of a palm to the ass, it is now a fist to the kidney, unexpected and cruel. A mewl of pain escapes.

“Will you scream?” Roy demands. Edward just shakes his head, face still pressed up to the desk.

He could just clap his hands and transmute something. Could probably fight Roy off even without the use of alchemy. He's still got his automail after all, and Roy has seen the Elric brothers spar. He would be beaten into submission within a blink.

“Don't just take it,” Roy hisses, angling his arm and aiming for the side of Edward's ribs this time, “Fight back.”

Ed lets out a stubborn grunt, but it's not enough, it's nowhere near enough. He should be spewing curses, should be screaming bloody murder and strangle Roy with these mismatched hands of his.

“Fullmetal,” Roy growls and, in a fit of pique, tightens his grip on Edward's hair once more, pulls him up and then slams him back down.

There's the sound of broken bone, crashing wood and-

 

And Roy startles awake.

“You bastard,” a familiar voice mocks, “Fell asleep over paperwork again? I won't stop Hawkeye when she comes to murder you.”

Roy blinks, his gaze dragged toward the other side of the office. Edward Elric is standing in front of the closed door, arms crossed, head tilted to the side in a taunting manner. His coat is red and garish and his eyes positively blaze.

“Fullmetal,” Roy says intelligently, staring a little.

Everything feels a little off-kilter and he realizes that he is still halfway caught in the aftershocks of what must have been a dream. A nightmare, really, a terrible terrible phantasmagoria.

“That's me,” Edward agrees with a roll of his eyes and then stalks through the office. From the inside of his coat, he fulls a rolled up stack of paper, haphazardly tossing it onto the desk in front of Roy.

“My report,” he informs lazily, “Don't drool on it, I'm not gonna write it again.”

Roy clears his throat, tries to chase away the last of the deceptive memories, “Did you find anything useful?”

Edward's fists clench by his sides, jaw tightening.

“No,” he admits, his eyes hard, “But I won't stop looking.”

Then he is already turning on his heel again, marching back to the door.

“Fullmetal?” Roy calls after him, feeling strangely hesitant.

Maybe Ed must hear it, too, because he stops and shoots him a wary glare, “What?”

Roy licks his lips, at a loss on how to continue.

“Don't ever change,” he says eventually and Edward's golden eyes narrow.

“You're a fucking weirdo, Mustang, anyone ever tell you that?” he drawls out, shaking his head and making a grab for the door handle.

“No,” Roy says, “You should do well to remind me of it every once in a while.”

“Pff,” Edward only lets out a huff of air, his automail hand clinking as it tightens around the handle.

Then he is gone with a swish of his red coat and a flick of his yellow braid.

Roy can only watch as the door slams shut behind him, the echo of it reverberating through the room.

Fullmetal indeed, Roy thinks and smiles.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tempted to do a similiar one but from Ed's POV, but let me know what you think. :)


End file.
